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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

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Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
What she got was the opposite of what she wanted, also known as the subtitle to her marriage.
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Dying Dragons and Wand Cores
#1
November 14th, 1888 - Ollivander's Wand Shop, High Street, Hogsmeade
There was always a relative calm in the first couple of months after the back to school rush was over. Business would pick up again by the end of November, however, as people started doing holiday shopping. Surprisingly enough, Ollivander's wasn't just a shop to purchase a wand. Gideon carried many other things meant for wands. Whether it be an ornate box to store a wand or top of the line cleaning and oiling products, he carried it all. It was truly a one stop shop for anything wand related. He tended to see an uptick in customers around the holidays as a result, looking for a unique sort of gift to be given when nothing else could be decided upon.

Billie had run off for her usual mid afternoon trek around town which left Gideon at the shop alone and seeing to putting away a new shipment of oils and cleaning products for the wands. He'd gone ahead and ordered some specialty cloths to go along with the cleaning supplies for the holiday packs bound to be bought. They were a bit more luxurious than usual but would surely draw the eye of his more wealthy customers. He thought to add embroidery as an option for some but decided against it. There wasn't anyone in the shop that could feasibly do so and it was pointless to outsource it and dip into his profits as a result. It was just a bit of a shame he had yet to actually accomplish on his "get a wife asap" quest.

Shrugging at the thought, he'd just finished with one of the boxes when he heard the chime of the bell above the front door go off. He turned with a smile to the customer. "Welcome!" he said in a cheerful manner with a broad grin on his features, "What can I do for you this afternoon?" He made his way back behind his front counter then, making sure none of the boxes of new product were in the way as he went.



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#2
While warmer months may be prime growing season, Immie typically found that her winters were more productive - both in demand and profit. Healing herbs were always rather popular at this time of year, whether they be curing (or preventing) the common cold or in gift-giving or simply worked into classic holiday recipes, and so Immie was never without some means of bringing in extra income. Not that she and Mac were struggling necessarily - though she’d be lying if she said that they weren’t toeing the line of being stretched thin some months - but it does help to have something to fall back on, especially around the holidays.

As such, Immie’s biweekly trek into Hogsmeade came around like clockwork, and armed with her grown goods and a few other important documents - packaged carefully into a travel bag thanks to an Extension Charm - in tow, Immie apparated as she usually did into the bustling village, though instead of making her way to the marketplace, she took a detour to Ollivander’s. She was honestly surprised when Mac decided to entrust her with this important errand; she would have thought that he’d want to carry it out himself, considering Mordred was his dragon, but perhaps it hurt too much. Her husband may not be one for displaying his feelings, but it wasn’t hard to see that he was obviously sad about it, and so he should be after spending over a decade caring for the creature.

With a bit of a sad sigh of her own, Immie pushed open the door of the wandshop, the bell overhead chiming her entrance followed by a cheerful greeting. Immie put on a grin that matched the gentleman’s broad one, and answered, “Hello! Mr. Ollivander, I presume?” She walked a few paces into the shop, coming to stand just before the front counter. “I’m here on a bit of sad business, I’m afraid.” Even though, truthfully, she was a little intrigued; she’d never witnessed a wand core harvest before. “My husband’s from a dragonkeeping family,” she explained. “Ours is not likely to make it through the year, and I’ve come to see about harvesting the cores for when our children come of age.” She hated to talk of Mordred as such, but it was a long-held MacFusty tradition that her children had every right to, and she wouldn't stand in the way of that.




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#3
Gideon had settled behind the counter easily enough as the woman came further into the shop. "The one and only," he answered with that grin still in place as she asked if he was Mr. Ollivander. He supposed that wasn't quite true though. He did have a brother a couple years older who was obviously another Mr. Ollivander but he was in London. And that, truthfully, wasn't where there only differences fell. The brothers couldn't be any more different from one another if they tried. The one thing they did have in common, however, was their expertise in wands.

Which, evidently, was exactly why this young woman was in his shop. A core harvesting wasn't something done all too often by the actual wandmakers but it still happened enough for e precedent to have been started. And, as the woman, spoke, Gideon was fairly certain he knew just what family she was from. There was one main dragonkeeping family in the area and he'd gone to school with a handful of them for the five years he'd actually been at school. An interesting bunch, truthfully, and the idea of making wands specifically for family members was a bit unheard of. But the MacFusty family had a way of using their own dragons' heartstrings for the cores of their wands. Each one of the children had one that way and it seemed as if such a tradition was still being carried on.

"A Mrs. MacFusty then?" he asked in a slightly questioning sort of tone, brow quirked as well, while he brought a notebook out along with a quill to jot down any notes that he'd find to be necessary. "Are you wanting anything additional harvested? Or just the heartstrings?" Sometimes, when he was already in the midst of harvesting cores, other bits were saved for whatever reason. Gideon typically only took what would work for the wands and the heartstrings were the strongest bits for wands.


#4
“One of many,” she confirmed, chuckling as Mr. Ollivander brought out a notebook and quill, and she fished out her own paperwork from her travel bag. She wasn’t sure what all she’d need, what information he required - Mac’s name, size of the dragon, weight, breed, age etc. - so Immie brought everything just in case, though his next question made her pause in her actions, expression thoughtful as she pondered.

Although Mac might seem a little removed from the whole process, one thing for certain was that he wasn’t likely to have another dragon again. For years, he’d searched for a way out of dragonkeeping; that was the whole purpose of him writing a book about it, after all, but even so, Mordred was still his dragon. He’d spent nearly over a decade caring for the creature, surely he’d want to keep other parts than just the hearts? Apart from purely sentimental reasons, Immie personally couldn't see much cause in doing so, and from her fairly limited knowledge of wandmaking, dragon strings were considered the strongest components as far as wand cores went, but still...

“I think,” Immie answered slowly after a moment, “we should just focus on the heart strings for now. If my husband has any other requests, I’ll be sure to have him contact you.” She ended simply. Yes, that was a good plan for now, and still gave Mac some control if he wanted any - and she certainly thought he should - and so without further ado, Immie slid the parchment across to Mr. Ollivander to peruse. “A little information, should you require it.” Immie explained.




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#5
Gideon chuckled at her response. There were certainly many. There were a handful of branches of the MacFustys after all and as far as he knew a lot of them were male. It made for plenty of MacFusty wives and they were a special sort in themselves. The MacFusty men weren't known for being quiet and calm and they were all rather large. Definitely not the sorts one wanted to be on the wrong side of.

He nodded as she said they would just focus on the heartstrings though. "That'll be just fine," he said as he pulled the sheet of paper toward himself to look over it. He vaguely recognized the name on the paper, figuring he must have been one of the younger brothers. He'd gone to school with one of them but had been in a different house. Most of them seemed to end up in Gryffindor, no surprise there.

"This should be all the information I need," he added with another nod, "I'll just need to know when the time comes and I'll harvest then." He continued to smile, trying to make it as easy a process as he could, he knew how attachment could be formed even with such beasts. "Would you like wands made up right away? Or do you want to pick out other options for it closer to when the children will need then?"


#6
Immie gave a small nod of her own, and smiled sadly at him. As sad as the entire thing was, a part of her was glad that the MacFustys still held on to this tradition; that even though Mordred was gone, a small part of her would live on through the children magically. It was almost bittersweet, in a way.

“Closer to Hogwarts age, I think,” Immie affirmed. “My eldest is six and my youngest two, still quite a ways to go yet.” She laughed, and reached down to close her carpet bag, careful of not accidentally knocking over the various jars as she secured it back onto her arm. “If that’s everything Mr. Ollivander, I’ll have word sent to you when the time comes, and be on my way?”




Please send all alerts to Imogen MacFusty, thank you! <3
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#7
Gideon nodded as he settled on his stool and began to take down a few more notations and even pulled a few jars up from under the table to prepare them with proper names and the like. "Sounds perfect," he said with a grin and tapped the glass jars, "I'll have them marked and stored away specifically for your children when the time comes." With the size of the dragons the MacFustys were known for having, there should be plenty to go around even if they were to have a dozen children. Or, at least, that had been his experience in the past.

"Have a good day, Mrs. MacFusty," he said with a nod before turning back to his notes. There was minor prep that needed to be done and even if they had time before the dragon's passing, he liked to have it all seen to ahead of time.



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